


Family Insomnia Time

by Wolfling



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post-Episode: s03e12 Lunar Ellipse, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:11:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfling/pseuds/Wolfling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After it was all over, the almost dying, the getting rescued, the letting the authorities know that Stiles' Dad, Scott's mom and Mr. Argent were no longer among the missing, when questions had been answered and lies concocted and physical check ups endured, they got to go home. Stiles got to get in a car with his Dad and <em>go home</em>. With his <em><b>Dad</b></em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Insomnia Time

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in the fandom, but probably not the only one. I have ideas. Many, many ideas.

After it was all over, the almost dying, the getting rescued, the letting the authorities know that Stiles' Dad, Scott's mom and Mr. Argent were no longer among the missing, when questions had been answered and lies concocted and physical check ups endured, they got to go home. Stiles got to get in a car with his Dad and _go home_. With his _**Dad**_.

There was so much profound relief in that thought that the very act of walking into their house was enough to have Stiles blinking back tears. Without words, he turned and hugged his Dad again, smiling into his shoulder when all Dad did was hug him back just as tightly and didn't let go until Stiles did.

When Stiles did finally feel able to pull back, his Dad ruffled his hair and gave him a fond look that was just so _Dad_. "You should head to bed, kid."

But even the suggestion was enough to make Stiles grimace and shudder, exhausted as he was. "The only way I'd be able to sleep right now is if you knocked me out with a baseball bat."

Dad blew out his breath in a long sigh. "Truthfully? I'm right there with you."

"Great," Stiles muttered. "Now we can have matching neuroses. Family insomnia time."

"Popcorn and late night TV?" Dad suggested, throwing an arm around Stiles' shoulder.

They ended up on the couch side by side, a bowl of popcorn balanced on both their knees, watching people be spectacularly incompetent in the way they only were in infomercials. Stiles leaned against his Dad's shoulder, feeling the last of the tension from the past few days start to flow out of him as his hind brain began to accept that everyone was safe and well and not in imminent danger of being sacrificed. A few more hours of this and he might even be able to close his eyes without panicking.

The popcorn bowl was almost empty when Dad stirred beside him. "You were right."

Stiles nodded emphatically. "See, that's what I'm always telling everyone, but nobody ever listens." He paused. "About what?"

Dad gave him a sad smile. "Your mom would've believed you."

Hearing his words echoed back to him sent a stab of guilt through him at throwing that in Dad's face, but that was overwhelmed by the sheer ache of Mom not being there. He always missed her, but sometimes, like now, it seemed to grow big enough to blot out everything else. "Yeah," he said softly, pressing his face into Dad's shoulder. "She would've."

Dad shifted so he could get an arm around Stiles and they just sat there like that a while, the TV in the background the only noise in the room and Stiles knew his Dad was feeling her absence just as much as he was.

Finally though, Dad blew out his breath. "I owe you an apology. I should've believed you."

Something that had been curled tight in Stiles finally relaxed at that. "To be fair, it does sound like a whole lot of crazy. I'm not unaware of this. That's why I brought Cora along for the show part of show and tell." He grimaced. "I just didn't count on her collapsing instead of wolfing out because she'd been magically poisoned."

"Yeah, well," Dad said wryly, "best laid plans and all."

"I know, right?" Stiles rolled his eyes. "Usually I have people wolfing out at me all over the place, but the one time I actually want it to happen..."

"Maybe next time bring a spare...?" 

Stiles looked up at his Dad and saw the corner of his mouth twitch. That combined with the absurdity of the conversation was enough to make him burst into laughter, which immediately set Dad off as well.

The next few minutes saw them collapsed against each other, both howling with laughter. Whenever one of them started to get themselves under control, they'd make the mistake of looking at the other which would set them off again. It may have had a slightly hysterical edge to it but Stiles couldn't find it in himself to care. As cathartic emotional releases went, this beat the hell out of hysterical crying and there'd been a few times the last couple of days that he'd felt on the razor's edge of that. He'd so take laughing with his Dad on the couch over something that isn't really all that funny over that any day.

Eventually the laughter died away, leaving them both breathless and the mood a little lighter and more content.

"I owe you an apology, too," Stiles said after a few minutes more of silence. "For all the times I lied to you about... well, pretty much everything this past year. I hated doing it, hated making you disappointed in me, making you not trust me. I just... I _had_ to, to..."

"You had to protect Scott," Dad said, rescuing him from more stammering and verbal flailing.

"Yes!" Stiles enthused, pointing at him. "That! Your best friend gets turned into a werewolf, you do whatever you can to help keep them safe. And that's going to involve keeping secrets. But it wasn't just Scott. It was Lydia and Allison and God help me, even Jackson. Even if I seriously wondered sometimes about Jackson. And it was Derek and his pack, though admittedly sometimes that was more a case of saving them from themselves. And people have _died_ , they've found out about all of this, got dragged into this world and it's gotten them killed. Boyd and Erica and Derek's whole family, that's so many people that were killed just because they were what they were and knew what they knew. It's not just being a werewolf, it's knowing about them, knowing all of this exists, it makes you a target, you're my Dad and I didn't want you to be a target. But then I told you because I had to and the first thing that happens after you said you didn't believe me is you get kidnapped and almost sacrificed by a Darach which is just what I was afraid would happen, well not that specifically but the almost getting you killed bit, yeah." He was forced to stop talking then because he'd run out of air and he could feel himself inches away from hyperventilating.

Dad had a hold of his arm firmly. "Breathe, Stiles," he ordered and Stiles breathed, was able to follow the order because this was familiar, Dad had been doing this for him since he started having panic attacks after Mom died. By now he was hardwired to listen to Dad's voice when he started getting away from himself. And also it worked because his Dad was _right there_ beside him and not kidnapped or sacrificed. 

"Better?" Dad asked after a minute.

Stiles nodded, leaning a bit more heavily against him. "You know what I'd like? I'd like for my emotions to stop acting like they're bungee jumping all over the place. That's what I'd like."

Dad chuckled and ruffled his hair affectionately. "You've been holding that in for a while, huh?"

He was going to deny that, as he'd never been any good at holding anything in, and he'd verbally vomited bits and pieces of that at Scott, at Lydia, at even _Derek_ , but the words died before he could voice them. When it came to his Dad, he _had_ been holding it all in since Scott had first been bitten. 

"Yeah, I guess," he said instead. "I just... I hate lying to you, y'know? About important stuff. Even if it feels like something I have to do."

"You don't," Dad said. "Not any more. I know now. And son? That doesn't mean I'm going to get hurt. And if I do, _that doesn't make it your fault_."

Stiles flinched. "It's not that. It's..." He took a deep breath, hesitating, but hell, he was blurting everything else out tonight; why stop now? "We lost Mom and it was awful. It is, literally, the single worst thing that has ever happened to me, even now when I have a hell of a lot more things that are making the top five. But you know what would be worse?" He forced himself to look up and meet Dad's eyes. "Losing you too. Because I can't, I can't lose you both. I can't."

Dad let out a soft sigh and shifted enough to pull Stiles into another full on hug. Part of Stiles' brain was observing how they were blowing the father - son hugging curve out of the water tonight, but the rest was just soaking up the affection. Especially after the last few days.

"You get that that goes both ways, right?" Dad said, after a minute or two. "You're the most important thing in my life and I'd rather die than lose you."

Stiles made a strangled noise in his throat that might have come out as desperate laughter under other circumstances. "Not helping."

Another sigh from Dad and a hand on the back of his neck. "Look, I get that you didn't tell me sooner because you were trying to protect me. All I'm saying is that I've been trying to protect you since you drew your first breath. And it's been getting exponentially harder the older you get."

"Sorry," Stiles apologized with a grimace.

"Don't be. Werewolves and Darachs and hunters aside, it's what you're supposed to do. But maybe, from now on, we can team up, work on protecting both of us together. You think you can do that?"

Stiles thought about it -- about not having to lie to his Dad the next time weirdness happened. About being able to sit down and ask for information or get Dad's professional opinion on things without having to trick him or do a whole elaborate song and dance. About maybe Dad coming to him for the same things if he ran into weirdness before Stiles and his friends did. About the next time the shit hit the fan having his Dad at his back when he inevitably ended up in the middle of it. It was terrifying, but at the same time made him feel secure in a way he hadn't since Scott got bit.

"Yeah," he said, slowly nodding. "Yeah, I can do that. I think I'd really like it even." He hesitated before continuing; he didn't think Dad would try to make him step back from everything, but it was too important for him not to make it clear. "Just as long as protecting each other doesn't mean you wanting me to ignore when weird things are happening. I have to do whatever I can to protect my," _pack_ , "friends. Or, y'know, any random innocent person who is getting caught in the crossfire. I may not be a werewolf but it doesn't mean I'm not _involved_ , y'know?"

"I know," Dad replied immediately and Stiles relaxed immediately at his self evident tone. He ruffled Stiles' hair again."I know you would never be able to ignore something that might hurt your friends. Or anyone really. Even if it puts you in danger. And that's not a werewolf or werewolf adjacent thing. That's a Stiles thing. You've always been like that."

Oh. The warmth in Dad's voice, the confidence in his _knowing_ , made Stiles smile a little. There'd been so many times in the last year that he'd known his Dad had doubted Stiles and what he could be counted on to do in any situation that to hear the confidence back in his voice soothed a hurt deep inside that he'd barely allowed himself to acknowledge. That Dad was saying some pretty awesome things in that tone of voice only made it all the better.

"Thanks," he said. Dad nodded and they fell back into a comfortable silence, and Stiles' attention slowly started turning back to the TV and infomercials' portrayal of incompetent people.

Neither he or Dad moved from the couch and eventually Stiles must've drifted off because the next thing he knew he was blinking himself awake to sunlight coming through the living room windows and the smell of bacon cooking.

He got up and stretched, folding the blanket that someone -- Dad -- had covered him with and laying in on the back of the couch. Then he wandered into the kitchen to find his Dad in front of the stove dishing up a truly impressive amount of breakfast food.

"Wow," he said as he walked over to give Dad a hug and steal a couple of pieces of bacon. "That is a _mountain_ of food that you are not supposed to be eating."

"Our pact last night about protecting each other does not extend to you policing my food," Dad said with a forbidding frown that Stiles had been ignoring for years.

Right now he just snorted in response. "I've been trying to protect your arteries from cholesterol since long before I knew werewolves even existed. It's hilarious that you think that's going to change."

Dad rolled his eyes. "I'm a grown man and if I want to eat bacon and eggs for breakfast, I can."

"Nope." Stiles grinned as he grabbed the plate right out of Dad's hands and danced backwards with it. He was struck suddenly about how _normal_ this all was. After the last few days and the heart to heart they'd had the night before part of him had expected that it was going to make everything different now. But here they were arguing over his Dad's diet just like they've done countless times before and it felt just the same. It felt right. Like home. Like _family_. As long as they had that, Stiles was pretty sure they could get through anything.

He looked at his Dad's woebegone expression at having lost the awesome plate of breakfast grease. "It's okay, Dad," Stiles reassured him, setting the plate down in front of his own place at the table and coming back over to pat him on the shoulder. 

Dad gave him a look that was halfway between suspicion and hope. "Does that mean you're going to stop playing keepaway with my breakfast?"

"Not even a little bit," Stiles said cheerfully. "How about a nice bowl of oatmeal instead?"


End file.
